


Trespass Sweetly Urged

by XylophoneCat



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romeo and Juliet Fusion, Drunkenness, Irresponsible Drinking, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylophoneCat/pseuds/XylophoneCat
Summary: Masquerade auFlower is full of bad ideas, and Sid always ends up dealing with the fallout. Luckily, he has a guardian angel looking out for him.





	Trespass Sweetly Urged

**Author's Note:**

> This is based loosely on Baz Luhrmann's _Romeo+Juliet_ , which is a masterpiece of a film and you should watch it if you haven't yet.

“This is such a bad idea,” Sid hissed. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

The Malkin mansion towered over them, imposing despite its festive garb and the drunken laughter floating out to them through the open windows. The armed guards waving them through were pretty imposing too, and Sid eyed the weapons warily, already missing the weight of his own gun. He’d had to leave at the front gate, given a plastic token in return. He thumbed at the piece of smooth plastic, resenting it’s presence in his pocket. Horny seemed to sense his restlessness and gave him one of those thousand kilowatt smiles from under his ridiculous viking helmet.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, relentlessly optimistic as always.

“He just needs to relax” Flower scoffed. He had already smudged his lipstick, the glossy red streaked from the corner of his mouth like blood. “We’ve got invites. And masks. We are fully legit right now.”

“Invites that you stole! Or faked, or something. If they recognise us they’re gonna kill us. Mario’s gonna kill us for this!”

“They’re not going to recognise us, dummy. S'what the mask’s for. And Mario won’t find out unless you tell him,” Tanger slurred, slinging a heavy arm around Sid’s shoulders. His breath was warm with the sickly sweet scent of cheap cider, and Sid shoved his face away.

The line shuffled forward, and they shuffled forward with it. The guard raised an eyebrow at their crumpled invites, but waved them through anyway. Flower grinned demonically at Sid, Tanger ans Horny as they moved into the flow of the crowd, his teeth too white against that damn lipstick. He grinned like he had done something clever, as if sneaking into the house of the Lemieux family’s greatest enemy was just another childish game. Behind his mask, Sid could see how wide his pupils were blown, two pitch black moons eclipsing the usually bright brown of his irises.

“I need a drink,” Sid shouted over the noise, and the guys cheered.

One drink naturally turned into a few drinks. Too many drinks later and the room was spinning around Sid. The streamers and decorations that hung over every surface blurred and melted into a technicolour swirl, and the noise and the lights warred for space in his head. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t be able to feel his heartbeat in his brain. Tanger and Flower were nowhere to be seen, and even Horny, normally so loyal, had disappeared. Every face he looked at was a blank stranger.

Panic started to rise in his chest, clamping down on his throat like a vice. Get out, said a tiny voice in the back of his head. It sounded kind of like Mario. Get out get outgetoutgETOUTGETOUTGET-

“Whoah there,” a voice broke through the cloud in Sid’s head, deep and accented. Sid looked up into concerned brown eyes framed with a glittering silver mask. To his addled brain, it was dazzling and he saw stars for a second, before steady hands were drawing him away from the crowds. Sid went easily, glad to hand over control to someone more sober than himself.

The man kept up a stream of comforting words as he directed Sid away from the party. Comforting but for the fact that Sid couldn’t understand them, and panicked slightly that he’d broken his brain.

“Not broken,” the man said, his voice suffused with warm amusement. “I speak in Russian, easier for me.”

“Oh,” was all Sid could say. It wasn’t like he was paying much attention anyway. The man laughed again.

“Is okay, you are very drunk, very understandable.”

“I think. I think my friends lost me.”

The man tutted and guided Sid down into a seat. He sank into the couch cushions and rolled his head back, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“Your friends should take better care of you. Here.”

Sid’s head felt like it was full of weights, but he managed to straighten up to take the glass of water being held out to him. The cool glass felt nice and he pressed it against his cheek, letting it draw out the heat from his feverish skin. The man breathed a laugh from his spot next to Sid. Sid looked over and realised that he couldn’t be much older than himself, maybe twenty or so, his face still clinging to the softness of his teen years. It was his height that had been deceptive, giving him years that he hadn’t earned yet. But he was lovely looking - full lips, curling dark hair, and a strong jawline all set off with faint pink flush to his cheeks. He was probably less drunk than Sid, but the blush gave him away.

“You drink it, not put face in it,” he said, and Sid realised with a start that he’d been staring, glass glued to his face. He took a dutiful sip. “What’s your name?”

Sid swallowed another mouthful before answering, his throat starting to feel less like sandpaper. “Sid.”

“Is nice name,” the man nodded, as if he had the final say in the matter. He had a quiet confidence that Sid liked. “I am Evgeni.”

“Evgeni,” Sid tried and he knew he butchered the pronunciation. Evgeni seemed to think so too; his lips twisted in a grimace, but he was smiling when he spoke next.

“Maybe try Geno, is easier for American tongue.”

“’m Canadian,” Sid muttered - it was an important distinction. “I like your costume.”

Geno gave him a wry smile and plucked self-consciously at the plain white tunic he was wearing. He had a pair of elasticated wings hooked over his shoulders, some of the feathers knocked crooked and Sid’s hands itched to straighten them.

“Is joke by my mama,” said Geno. “My brother dress as devil, so she say ‘Zhenya, you must balance all this out’ and then shove me in wings and dress.”

“Seems like neither of us wanted to be here,” Sid sighed and Geno nodded. Sid took another sip of water, his head starting to feel much clearer away from the noise and heat and lights. He realised they were sat in what seemed to be a library, floor to ceiling shelves of dark wood lined with books. He could still hear the masquerade going on somewhere but it was muffled, like sound through water, or through the wall of a club at 3am while he holds back Tanger’s hair as he pukes in the alleyway.

“You are knight in shining armour though,” Geno said and tapped a long finger against the fake chainmail that Sid was wearing. “Save me from the terrors of family events.”

“No, you saved me,” Sid protested, and then smiled at the very dumb and cheesy thing he was about to say. “Guardian angel.”

“Guess I am,” Geno laughed, and Sid giggled with him, enjoying the way Geno’s eyes lit up almost as bright as the crystals in his mask whenever he smiled.

“Could I kiss you?” he asked suddenly, startling himself with his boldness. Geno looked just as surprised but not like he was about to punch him, which was an encouraging sign.

“Very forward of you,” he said, but he shifted around to face Sid, hooking his arm up over the back of the couch. “Why should I let you?”

“Because I think we’d go well together,” Sid admitted. “Because right now you’re an angel and I’d get on my knees for you.”

“Blasphemous,” Geno said through a smile.

“I’m sorry that was inappropriate,” said Sid, pushing up onto his knees and moving into Geno’s space. “Stay still and let me apologise.”

The kiss was soft, surprisingly tender for two drunk strangers hidden away from prying eyes. Sid felt Geno sigh against his lips before he pulled away, leaving Sid to chase the contact before a firm hand was placed against his chest, holding him back.

“Is bad idea,” Geno said, but his eyes kept flicking back down to the parted curve of Sid’s lips.

“If you don’t want it, I can just take it back,” Sid shrugged, pushing against his palm. Not enough to force himself forward, but enough to get his meaning across. “Kisses are easy like that.”

Geno muttered something helpless sounding in Russian, but his hand slipped up to cup Sid’s neck, no longer restraining him.

“You have sweet talking mouth, get me into trouble.”

Sid leaned back in, close enough that their lips were barely touching, barely a breath between them.

“Shut me up then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Romeo  
> Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.  
>  _kisses her_  
>  Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.
> 
> Juliet  
> Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
> 
> Romeo  
> Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!  
> Give me my sin again.
> 
> (on tumblr @forthlinefic)


End file.
